Harry Potter and the Rise of Voldemort
by iluvharrypotter3927
Summary: This is the story of Harry's 6th year at Hogwarts. PG-13 for language, violence, and adult situations.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to J.K. Rowling.

A/N: OK, this is my first fanfic so please bear with me! This is supposed to be the 6th book- Harry Potter and the Rise of Voldemort. Please review!!! I hope you enjoy it! Oh yeah- special thanks to ArmachiA for all your help.

Chapter One

It was a hot summer's day, the kind in which most normal boys would be outside, playing basketball or swimming… but not Harry Potter. Harry was the perfect example of an unusual boy. He sat on his bed, facing the window. He hadn't moved for hours. He sat there, waiting, hoping, praying for that one letter that would change everything. The hours dragged by. Soon the afternoon became night, and the vast sky was littered with bright stars. Harry was a teenager who was in one of those awkward stages… he wasn't a boy, but he wasn't quite a man. He had grown at least 3 or 4 inches in the past month and a half, and he was starting to fill out rather nicely. He had given up trying to tame his hair, which simply grew all over the place. Even through his unruly hair, a thin, lightning-bolt shaped scar was still visible on his forehead. It was this scar that made Harry so different from other boys his age. Also, Harry had a variety of things in his room that most people would consider quite unusual. For example, there was an open trunk in the corner, containing spell books, cloaks, unusual potion ingredients, and other oddities. There also happened to be a shiny broomstick in the corner with the word _Firebolt_ written across it. And then there was a cage on the dresser, which usually held a beautiful, snowy owl named Hedwig, but was now currently empty. Harry Potter was a very unusual boy indeed. 

Harry finally gave up; he was simply too tired. He opened his window, in case any post arrived during the night. He removed his glasses and laid on his bed. Just as he was starting to get drowsy, he heard a faint fluttering outside his window. Figuring he was dreaming, Harry ignored it. Then, a loud "THWACK!" interrupted the lazy silence. 

"What-?" Harry began, bolting upright in his bed. He turned to the window. There was nothing there. He turned to the other side of his room. It appeared as though an owl had flown right through his window and smashed headlong into the wall. Harry recognized it at once.

"Pig!" Harry said blankly. He jumped out of bed and peeled the tiny owl off the wall. No sooner had he done so when the miniscule owl flew out of his hand and began bouncing around the room, hooting shrilly.

"Stop that!" Harry panted, chasing after it. "I need my letter! C'mon… stop-for-just-one- GOTCHA!" he yelled triumphantly. He ripped the letter off Pig's leg, and released him. 

He read-

_Harry-_

Mum talked to Dumbledore, and 

it's all okay! Dad'll pick you up 

Monday at 3. He's traveling by

Floo powder, though, so make sure

the fireplace isn't boarded up. I don't

think your aunt and uncle would fancy

having their living room blown up

again. I can't wait to see you! Til then-

_Ron_

Harry felt his stomach leap with joy. He was going to the Burrow, far away from the Dursleys… The thought of having to wait two whole days was unbearable. He grabbed some parchment and wrote a quick response to Ron. 

_Ron-_

Great! Don't worry, the fireplace

isn't boarded up anymore, but 

even if it was, your dad could blow

it up without worrying- the Dursleys 

would probably be too scared of 

Mad-Eye coming and turning them into toads to do anything about it. See you Monday, then-

Harry

Harry snatched Pig, who was currently banging off the walls like a feathery sort of bouncing ball, and tied the letter to his leg. 

"Go on, then!" Harry instructed Pig. Pig was gone in a whirlwind of feathers, and Harry, laying on his bed, wondered if there was a spell that could make time pass quicker. 


	2. Back to the Burrow

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to J.K. Rowling.

A/N: Ok, so here's the second chapter! I know it's a bit boring, but some important stuff happens- I'm not going to say anymore! Oh yeah… please, please, please review! Thanks- 

Chapter Two 

The next morning, Harry wandered downstairs for some breakfast. He helped himself to some toast. Aunt Petunia was washing dishes and made no sign that she noticed Harry, although she wrinkled her nose and pursed her lips, like she was washing something particularly foul. Uncle Vernon was reading the newspaper, and didn't look up. Even if the Dursleys weren't ignoring him, Harry doubted Dudley would have noticed him, as Dudley was eating his way through 4 plates of pancakes. Ever since he had been back at Privet Drive, the Dursleys had taken up the old routine of pretending Harry didn't exist. Harry didn't mind much. It made things much more pleasant, truth be told. 

"Er- Uncle Vernon?" Harry asked tentatively. No answer. Harry cleared his throat.

"Um… Mr. Weasley is picking me up tomorrow at 3 o'clock. Is that alright?" Still no answer.

"I'll take that as a yes, then," said Harry, standing up to leave.

"Wait one second, boy," said Uncle Vernon, in a particularly nasty tone. Harry stood rooted to the spot, his insides tingling with dread. Dudley stopped shoving pancakes into his mouth so he could listen. Dudley loved it when Harry got yelled at. Uncle Vernon lowered his newspaper and looked at Harry disgustedly. Harry was reminded forcibly of a large beet with a mustache. 

"How?" said Uncle Vernon.

"What d'you mean, how?" Harry shot back.

"Don't cheek me, boy," Uncle Vernon snarled. "I want to know how this-this Mr. Wizzly is picking you up."

"Weasley," Harry said, annoyed. "And he's traveling by Floo powder. Can I go now?" 

"Floo powder? _Floo powder? _And what in the ruddy hell is that?" Uncle Vernon asked nastily. 

"It's the same thing they used last time, you know, with the fireplace," said Harry.

Uncle Vernon turned a violent shade of magenta. 

"What- how- but-" he sputtered. He seemed to be at a loss for words. "NO!" he roared suddenly. "NO WAY IS SOME CRAZY LUNATIC GOING TO COME SHOOTING OUT OF MY FIREPLACE, I TELL YOU, I WONT HAVE IT-"

"Vernon!" Aunt Petunia screeched. "Shhh! The neighbors might hear!" 

Harry's brain was working furiously. As Uncle Vernon sat seething in his chair, Harry seized the opportunity to speak.

"Alright then, I'll write to Mr. Weasley and tell him he can't travel by Floo powder," Harry said. "But I'm warning you, Mad-Eye isn't going to like this…" He had said the magic words. Uncle Vernon had turned from a violent shade of magenta to a violent shade of green. 

"Arrrgh….FINE!" he bellowed. "But if this Mr. Wizzler gets so much as one spot on our living room floor… it'll be your head on a platter, boy…" And he strode out of the room, muttering angrily under his breath. 

The rest of the day passed without great event. Hedwig returned from her hunting, and Harry began to pack his belongings for the next day. Nightfall came, and Harry tried to sleep, but he kept tossing and turning…. He was beginning to feel drowsy…

He was gliding swiftly through a long, blindingly-white corridor. There was a tall, red door at the end of the hall. Suddenly, Harry could hear screams of pain coming from behind the door. He quickened his pace… Whoever was in that room needed help… He had to reach them…. But the door was gliding away from Harry as well, farther and farther… "_No!" a woman's voice screamed. "Not Sadie! Not my little girl…" _

Harry woke up, drenched in cold sweat. His scar was burning. He laid back down, pressed his hand on his forehead, and fell back asleep. When he woke up, he did not remember his dream at all.

Monday had finally arrived. Harry yawned and headed downstairs. To his surprise, the Dursleys looked like they were leaving.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked them groggily. All three Dursleys jumped. It was clear that they had hoped to leave before Harry woke up.

"We'll be in the car, Vernon," Aunt Petunia squeaked. She seized Dudley and slammed the door shut.

"Uh… we're uh, we're going to a….a movie," Uncle Vernon stammered.

"At 8:00 on a Monday morning?" Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Erm…" said Uncle Vernon. He appeared to be at a loss for words.

"When are you coming back?" asked Harry, confused.

"When you're gone!" Uncle Vernon blurted. "Er-I mean… around 4 or 5 o'clock. Well, anyways.. I'd better going…" He opened the door and stepped outside. Harry stood there, thoroughly bewildered. And then it hit him.

"Wait a second!" Harry shouted at Uncle Vernon's back. "You're not afraid of Mr. Weasley, are you?" he chortled, fighting back laughter. Uncle Vernon turned around.

"Of course not!" he bristled. "Whatever gave you that id-" he stopped in mid sentence. Harry was shaking with silent laughter. "Have a nice term, then," Uncle Vernon snarled, slamming the door in his face. 

_Well_, Harry thought to himself, _this is a pleasant surprise_. He took a shower, watched television for a bit, and around 2:30 he dragged his luggage downstairs. He stood there and waited. Finally, after what seemed like hours, there was a loud _SWOOSH!_, and the fireplace was ignited with emerald-green flames. The tall, thin shape of Mr. Weasley became visible.

Mr. Weasley stepped out of the fireplace and brushed the dust off his robes. He smiled at Harry and stepped forward to shake his hand.

"Hello, Harry! How are you?"

"Very well, thanks," Harry smiled back. 

"So… is that all, then?" asked Mr. Weasley, pointing at Harry's luggage.

"Yeah," Harry replied. "That's all." 

"Great!" Mr. Weasley smiled. "Well, I guess we better-" he paused, and then frowned. "Where are your relatives?"

"Oh…Well, they took off this morning. To be honest, I think they were a little scared… They probably haven't forgotten the Ton-Tongue incident," said Harry, trying to look serious.

"Ah," said Mr. Weasley thoughtfully. "Well, that's a shame… But to be honest, it does make things a bit easier. You know, I'm surprised I got out of here alive the last time…"

"Yeah," Harry grinned. "You have to admit it was funny though…"

"Now, Harry," Mr. Weasley frowned. "Only a little…" 

They managed to squeeze all of Harry's luggage in the fireplace. There was another _SWOOSH!, _and the fireplace was lit up with emerald-green flames once more. Everything was spinning very fast… They were headed to the Burrow. 

A/N: I should have the next chapter done by Wednesday. Thanks for reading, please review!


	3. Bill's bad luck

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. They all belong to J.K. Rowling. 

A/N: OK, so here's the third chapter! I know it's been a bit boring so far, but once they get to Hogwarts I promise everything becomes spicier ;-). I hope you enjoy it!

Chapter Three

Suddenly the spinning stopped; Harry's stomach lurched as his surroundings jerked to an abrupt halt. There, sitting around the kitchen table, were five Weasleys, grinning at him broadly. There was Ron, as tall and gangly as ever, Ginny, who looked as though she had sprouted a few inches since Harry had last seen her, Fred and George, in brand new robes (was that silk?), and Mrs. Weasley. They all jumped up to greet him, and after shaking many hands (with the exception of Mrs. Weasley's bone breaking hug), Ron offered to help Harry take his luggage upstairs.

"Don't bother," said George. "We'll take care of it."

"Yeah," chimed Fred. "No problem."

They flicked their wands, and Harry's luggage (including Hedwig) levitated a few inches off the ground. Harry watched as his belongings zoomed up the stairs and glided smoothly into- Bill. It was disaster. Mrs. Weasley shrieked as Bill was knocked flat on his back, sliding down the stairs with Harry's trunk on top of him. Hedwig broke free of her cage and was flapping over their heads, shrieking indignantly. Harry's trunk managed to break open, sending robes, spell books, and socks flying in every direction. With a last KERPLUNK!, Bill landed at the bottom of the stairs, covered in Harry's clothes. 

"Er…" said George.

"Sorry," Fred managed weakly.

Bill pulled a pair of Harry's underwear off his head and stood up. With a flick of his wand, all Harry's things soared back into the trunk. There was a moment's silence. Then- 

"YOU STUPID, WORTHLESS IDIOTS, WHAT THE HELL DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING-"

Then Mrs. Weasley joined in on the shouting.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS, YOU COULD HAVE KILLED HIM-"

"C'mon," Ron whispered to Harry. "We'd better get going…"

"TRYING TO BREAK MY NECK-"

"ACTING COMPLETELY IRRESPONSIBLE, WHY ARE YOU TWO ALWAYS SO RECKLESS-"

Ron grabbed Harry's elbow, and they edged past Bill, crept up the stairs, and snuck into Ron's room. 

"Sorry about that," Ron said. "You'd think since they're almost eighteen they'd stay out of trouble, but…" He shook his head.

"It's alright," said Harry, stifling laughter. "Which reminds me, how's Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes coming along?"

"Pretty good," said Ron. "They're making tons of money. Mum was furious at first, but she knew that they were going to do whatever they wanted, and there was nothing she could do about it. And she didn't want them to pull a Percy."

"Mmm," said Harry. "Have you heard from him at all?"

"No," said Ron, with a look of deep disgust. "Git…" 

"Well, anyways," said Harry, eager for a change in conversation. It was clear this was still a touchy subject. "Have you heard from Hermione lately?"

"Yeah," said Ron. "I got an owl from her about a week ago. She said she was going on vacation, and that she wouldn't be back until the end of the month. She didn't say where, though. I guess we won't see her until school starts." He sounded disappointed.

"Oh," Harry said, cursing himself for bringing up another dangerous topic. He had been in touch with Hermione as well, and he had also received an owl from her a week ago. She had told him that she would be in Bulgaria for 3 weeks, visiting Viktor Krum. Krum was a famous international Quidditch player, and Ron was a bit jealous of him to say the least. Hermione had also requested that Harry didn't tell Ron where she was, because, as she put it delicately, it might upset him a bit. Harry cut his thoughts short, as Ron was looking at him suspiciously. Harry opened his mouth to say something, but Mrs. Weasley entered the room at that precise moment. Harry was grateful for the intrusion.

"Sorry about that incident, Harry dear," she smiled at him. Her face was still pink from shouting. 

"Not at all," said Harry, smiling back nervously.

"Here's your things-" she glared as Fred and George entered the room, lugging Harry's trunk and panting heavily. 

"Hedwig is still a bit- rattled," she continued, "but she'll calm down eventually. Oh, and dinner is going to be ready in an hour." She turned and left, seizing Fred and George by their collars and dragging them along. Ron sniggered.

After dinner, Harry leaned back in his chair contentedly, full of excellent food. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were discussing the latest news. Fred and George had bewitched their utensils and food into playing what was unmistakably a game of Quidditch, and Ron and Ginny were fighting over the last piece of pie, yanking a dish back and forth. Harry watched as Ginny finally released the plate, sending the slice sailing through the air before landing on Bill's head. It was so good to be back at the Burrow. Harry had missed it sorely. He couldn't help but think that the last time he was here, Sirius was alive. Harry sighed. He had thought about his godfather constantly over the summer. The guilt and pain he refused to deal with was constantly gnawing inside him. 

"Harry? Is something wrong?" asked Ron. He looked slightly cross-eyed, as Bill had just walloped him upside the head. 

"No, everything's fine," Harry managed a grin. "It's good to be back, that's all." 

In Harry's opinion, the week flew by much too fast. One week at the Dursleys' seemed twice as long as one week at the Burrow. Time had an uncanny knack of speeding up when you enjoyed yourself, and slowing down when you were miserable. All too soon, Mrs. Weasley announced that the next morning they would make their annual trip to Diagon Alley. Harry had trouble falling asleep that night. He tossed and turned for what seemed like hours…. 

He once again found himself gliding smoothly along a long, blindingly-white corridor. This time the long, red door was much closer. It seemed an arm's length away; and yet he still could not reach it… He once again heard voices from within. "_Listen to me, you worthless fool," _came a familiar voice- cold and high-pitched. "_If you fail to bring it in time, you know what will happen." _Then came another voice- a woman's, sobbing uncontrollably. 

"_Please,"_ she whispered. "_I can't, you don't understand…" _The high pitched voice cackled. It sent shivers down Harry's spine. He groped fruitlessly at the door knob… 

"_Crucio!" _came the cold voice again. Suddenly the air was full of her screams. She was in pain, in terrible pain…Harry had to help her… Then came another voice, one that Harry did not recognize…

"_Mum!" a girl screamed. "Mum!"_

"Harry, wake up!" 

Harry groaned and looked up. Ron's concerned face was peering over him. 

"Are you alright? You were thrashing and moaning in your sleep…"

"Yeah, I'm fine…" Harry mumbled, groping for his glasses. 

"Are you sure?" Ron asked sharply.

"It was just a nightmare, nothing important…" Harry said groggily. 

Ron gave him a suspicious look, probably due to the fact that Harry's nightmares usually _were _ important. 

"Anyways," Ron continued, still looking suspicious, "it's time to get up. We have to leave in 20 minutes."

Harry and Ron dressed and ate quickly, anxious to get the day started. Harry was deep in thought. He was sure he had a similar dream before. Who was that woman, and that girl? He was sure that the cold, high voice was Voldemort… But what could it all mean? He didn't want to fuss over nothing, seeing as the last time he did, it had cost his godfather's life. But he couldn't help the feeling of worry that settled at the bottom of his stomach. 

"Alright everyone, it's time to leave," said Mrs. Weasley. She took a pot from the counter and threw some dust into the fireplace. Almost at once, tall, emerald-green flames lit up the fireplace.

"Ginny- you first…" Ginny stepped into the fire, and said clearly, "Diagon Alley!" With a loud _SWOOSH!_, she was gone.

"Fred, you next… then George…" They didn't use the floo powder, but instead disapparated with two small _pops!_ They were finished with school- but they had to go to Diagon Alley every day, as it was the site of their new store. 

"Ok, Harry…" said Mrs. Weasley.

Harry stepped into the flames.

"Diagon Alley!" he said clearly. He felt the familiar lurching of his stomach as everything began to spin… 

A/N: Thanks for reading J ! I should have the fourth chapter done by Friday. Please review!! 


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